


No Shadow Falls

by redhoodsrobin (manatsuko)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Jason Todd is a Talon, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Tim Drake is Robin, UTRH/CoO mashup, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14226930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manatsuko/pseuds/redhoodsrobin
Summary: Gotham's rich and influential fall victim to a string of mysterious disappearances. It's business as usual for Batman and Robin, until the bodies start showing up in Blüdhaven.Dick doesn't remember signing up for this particular brand of crazy in his life.





	1. Prologue: The Fall, The Rise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to the fic idea that wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> Once again I'm playing fast and loose with canon, following the time-honored DC tradition of fluid continuity. The setting of this is a mash-up of mostly pre-52 with some n52/maybe rebirth(?) thrown in. For example, Barbara is Oracle and Cass is Batgirl in this fic, but I don't think I'll focus on the history of it all too much. This is, first and foremost, focussed on Dick. And later Jason. We'll get there. 
> 
> Please bear with my vague poetic prologue, the rest of the story is written normally (hence why I uploaded both the prologue + chapter 1 together)

 

 

There's a boy, there's a bat. You learn to fall in order to fly. That's how the story goes.

 

*

 

You see, it starts like this - in flame and fire with ice building in his gut, panic clawing at his throat.

There's a timer, counting down, ticking away seconds like the blood dripping from his wounds and the rattling in his lungs. It hurts. Whoever wrote that you see your life flash by before your eyes in your dying moments was a filthy liar, because all he got were blurred shapes and dust, red-stained spit and tears, his mind insisting that this wouldn't be how it all ends.

But it was.

 

*

 

Maybe it begins like this instead - in liquid and ice with fire running through his veins, gasping for air he'll never get. There's a machine, beeping, more than one, observing. It hurts. He shivers on hard, unforgiving tile but his eyes burn. The images dancing in front of him are filtered, fuzzy at the edges like an old photograph. He feels empty, so empty, null and void of existence and yet here he is.

Here he is.

 

*

 

Maybe he's always meant to end the way he starts - in blood and pain, daring to hope for better. Reaching for stars he will never catch. 

 

*

 

You see, this is how everything begins - at his end.

 

*

 

There's a boy, there's a Bat. There are others too, though he doesn't know that yet. If all goes right, he never will.

That's not how this story goes.

 

 

 


	2. Something In The Water

 

If someone were to ask Dick for a description of Gotham, he wouldn't know where to start.

Basic attributes are easy: gloomy winters, sweltering summers, nights draped in the darkest black you'll ever see. Buildings rich with history, whether they stand in the Bowery or the financial district. All indisputably true, and yet... None of those things are Dick's first, most instinctual thought when he thinks of the city.

Even now, Gotham is _home_.

Dick hasn't lived at Wayne Manor in years, but he has history here, friends and family, and a change of address won't erase any of that. Maybe that is the most telling reminder of his upbringing at Haly's: defining his home by people instead of places.

Although it has to be said, Gotham itself is nothing if not shaped by the people that inhabit it. Take away half of the colorful criminals they deal with on a daily basis, and the city would start to feel unrecognizable. There seems no chance of that happening anytime soon though, for better or for worse. Batman is busy as ever.

Any other time, Nightwing would be out there providing backup or patrolling on his own. But with Dick's injured leg still in a brace, Alfred had been quick to insist on limited movement for the time being. Only half the usual patrol time, no one-on-twelve confrontations if it can be avoided. It's like his first days of being Robin all over again.

Being regaled to the sidelines while others do the heavy lifting stings, now more than ever.

At least the gym equipment down in the Cave provides ample distraction. The longer he keeps busy, the less he has to think about being sidelined. He is grateful Cass agreed to fill in for him in Blüdhaven, but Dick is eager to get back on his own two feet.

Only one more week before the brace comes off and Nightwing is able to patrol freely again. Not very long at all, in the grand scheme of things.

His musings are cut short by the distant roar of the Batmobile's engine. Then, tires screech to a halt. Dick drops the weights, grabs his towel and a bottle of water, and goes to meet Bruce and Tim halfway. He may not be able to join them out in the field at the moment, but there are other ways to help.

"So who is the victim this time?" Dick calls out as soon as he is within earshot.

"Victor Frenye, CFO of Milburry Inc." Bruce pulls up the corresponding files as he speaks. Personal information, business partners, bank accounts. Anything that can be checked for irregularities; anything that could provide a motive for the man's disappearance.

"Middle-aged, well-off, kind of douchey?" Dick guesses.

"He definitely fits the pattern, yeah", Tim chimes in. Bruce's gruff voice quickly follows, "Insofar there is one."

"And we're absolutely positive this isn't something with magical properties messing with us?"

Bruce doesn't quite scoff, but Dick knows him well enough to know the feeling is implied. "Yes, I'm sure. Already had multiple people look into it."

Dick holds up his hands. "Just checking."

It wouldn't be the first time they have to deal with a non-human entity running amok, and really, with the mysterious lack of evidence left behind it's not a strange leap in logic to make. The disappearances are the most high-profile, but far from the only unsolved crimes piling up at the GCPD. There are about a dozen reported burglaries, ranging from family heirlooms to supplier contracts gone missing. The crime scenes are free of foot- or fingerprints, with no way to tell what the point of entry was or how the perpetrator escaped. No security footage either.

It's maddening. Everyone is helping where they can, but their options are limited without clues. They haven't even been able to confirm whether they are dealing with a single culprit or not. Bruce seems to believe so, but Oracle refuses to rule out the possibility that a new crime network might have popped up right under their noses.

Dick lets his eyes roam over the computer screens. Numbers, data, the sum of someone's life. "There has to be something we're missing", he says.

Tim hums in agreement, shifting around on his feet. He makes a valiant effort to look awake, but there is a noticeable slump to his shoulders. "Maybe the full analysis of the crime scene will give us something to work with this time."

"I've already started running preliminary scans, there's not much you can do here until those are finished," Bruce says. "Get some sleep, Tim."

Tim splutters in protest. "I can still-"

"Tim, please. Rest."

Tim deflates at the dismissal. No matter how kindly worded, he never takes a perceived rejection well.

Dick claps him on the shoulder. "Bruce is right, there isn't much to see here until the computer is done. Plenty of time to catch some sleep."

"As if you're going to sleep anytime soon."

"That's different, I've been sitting around most of the night doing nothing. If anyone here is awake enough to stare at half a dozen screens in the dark, it's me."

"Good luck telling Bruce that", Tim mutters.

Dick grins, and steers him towards the staircase. "I can certainly try."

 

*

 

Dick is getting precariously close to the end of his rope by the time he leaves the Cave. Even Bruce's demeanor screams equal parts frustration and resignation - the disappearances are too perfectly orchestrated to be without rhyme or reason, but they can find neither a motive nor a pattern to the victims beyond 'upper class'.

Whoever is behind all of this, they're _very_ good at what they do.

Unfortunately.

 

*

 

Morning is a quiet affair. Dick only wakes up before noon because he remembered to set an alarm - he is supposed to meet up with Wally later today, and unlike his best friend, he isn't able to get ready five seconds beforehand with two seconds to spare.

He pulls out his phone while he waits for the coffee maker, idly glancing over the morning headlines so far. It's more of the usual for Gotham, but a few Blüdhaven news outlets are chiming in on the matter. Well, for as much as fearmongering opinion pieces can be considered 'chiming in'.

Not long after Dick sits down at the counter, Tim stumbles into the kitchen with a half-yawned "G'morning." His bedhead is terrible, odd tufts of hair sticking out in one place and lying completely flat in others. He makes a beeline for the coffee pot and the cupboard, in that order.

Dick hides his smile behind his phone. "Morning. Are you sure you got any sleep?"

Tim shrugs as he pours. By some miracle he doesn't spill a single drop of liquid. "Barely. Too much on the mind, you know?"

"Tell me about it," Dick scrolls past another clickbait article, a collection of eyewitness accounts describing suspicious activity near the docks. It's about time Nightwing returns to Blüdhaven; either the rumor mill is running a bit too rampant or another drug cartel is gaining territory. "It's been a weird month."

"When did we ever have a non-weird month?" Tim snorts.

"Dunno, I might've had one at age 14, if you ignore the odd robbery here and there."

A small laugh escapes Tim, probably more out of disbelief than amusement, but Dick will take it. The mood here is too heavy as-is.

The buzz of his phone alerts him to a new message. It's from Babs, short and to the point, though she also included several hyperlinks - undoubtedly of the social media sources she's citing. News spreads faster online than it does in print, after all, and this...

"Oh, this isn't good." Dread settles in the pit of Dick's stomach the further he reads.

"What?" Tim perks up in his chair, curiosity piqued, "What is it?"

Dick opens one of the links and grimaces. "I think I found one of your missing Gothamites."

"Really?! Where?"

He flips his phone around so Tim can read the posts for himself. "Strung up under the Blüd's Littleneck Narrows Bridge."

The color drains from Tim's face at record speed.

Dick shares the sentiment. Their case just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely made up any kidnapping victims but so far specified locations are taken from canon. I can't make those names up. 
> 
> ((I didn't put it in the chapter proper, but Catwoman was obviously Batman's first suspect for the burglaries (much to her amusement). Spoiler: it wasn't her))


	3. A Leap In The Dark

 

As the sun inches closer to the horizon and night closes in once again, Dick suits up and joins the others in the Cave. The waiting around has easily been the worst part of the day - waiting for the investigators to finish at the crime scene, waiting for autopsy reports to come in, waiting until they have a chance to check the evidence themselves.

Oracle has been sending them the files as soon as they come in, but that doesn't placate the worry niggling at the back of Dick's mind. There are too many chances for outside interference - _for tampering_ \- the longer they are forced to wait around. For lack of anything else to do, Dick has mentally run over the information they have so far about ten times in the past hour. He can probably recite it in his sleep by now.

The victim is male, 52, average build. Lung damage points towards him being a heavy smoker. He died a few hours before being strung up, so there is a second crime scene they need to look out for. The cause of death is a single stabwound to the neck that severed the jugular vein, though there are shallow post-mortem incisions across the victim's neck and chest as well. It might be a message, or it might suggest personal resentment on the killer's part. Either way, it was a swift death, with more attention dealt to the display at the bridge than to the act of murder itself.

Barbara pulls up the feed of all nearby security cameras of the night before. Aside from the occasional car passing over, the bridge appears abandoned. None of the vehicles stopped or slowed down either. Another dead end.

"Batgirl passed through the area from 4:58 to 5:16 a.m." Babs explains, "The body was discovered not long after sunrise, two hours later. Plenty of time for our culprit to arrange everything."

Dick studies the camera placements, its blind spots and their relative distance to where the body was found. It doesn't add up.

"The question is, how does someone transport a body and hang it without being seen? A lot of effort was put into this, the ropes were secured so tight that the fire department had a hell of a time getting the body down."

"Underneath," Cass speaks up, "The cameras don't reach underneath."

Bruce gives a thoughtful look at the bridge's blueprints. "The maintenance walkways. It's possible."

"But the walkways don't reach up to that particular part of the bridge, do they?" Tim asks. "They're more centered."

"It would require specialized equipment, but it's still feasible." 

"Not on your own," Barbara adds with a pointed look at Bruce. "You'd need help to set up all the necessary tools, drag the body up with you and then tie it up, all within a two hour timeframe."

"Possibly less," Dick muses, "They still had to clear out afterwards."

Bruce inclines his head, a sign of consideration more so than agreement. "We might be able to find traces of their equipment. As Robin said, that part of the bridge isn't easily accessible. Whatever method they used to secure themselves in place, it could have left dents or scratches."

"I can go check it out", Dick suggests. The police wouldn't have been able to search underneath the bridge, but they don't swing through the city on grapple lines every night the way Dick does either. 

"Your leg isn't fully healed yet", Barbara points out. A small, concerned frown plays along the edges of her brow.

"It's fine when I'm wearing the brace," Dick replies, "I haven't suddenly forgotten how to balance, O. Just need to be more careful, that's all."

Barbara starts on another protest, but before she gets very far Bruce interrupts, "Both of us will go. Oracle can keep a tab on the police radio and additional reports while Batgirl and Robin patrol."

"In Gotham?" Tim asks.

"Yes. Nightwing and I will take care of Blüdhaven for the night, after we're done at the bridge."

Dick breathes in deeply. It's just Bruce being Bruce again, he doesn't mean anything by speaking for Dick. Barbara is right - his leg still isn't in the best shape, so Batman coming along is a good compromise. Dick doesn't even mind the team-up, really, he just-

He would appreciate it if Bruce bothered to ask his opinion before going straight to orders. Their victim may be a Gothamite, but Blüdhaven is Nightwing's home ground at the moment.

"Drop by the GCPD to see if the commissioner knows anything that's off-record as well, when you have some time to spare", Bruce continues.

Cass nods, Tim already pulling his gloves on in preparation to set out.

"I'll ask Amy to keep an eye on the proceedings in the BPD as well then", Dick adds. They need their intel, and if there's anyone in the BPD they can trust, it's her. Bruce doesn't try to change his mind, so Dick takes that as permission.

Later, when they have gone over their plans for the night in more detail and Bruce has turned to brief Cass and Tim on Gotham's latest problem areas, Barbara nudges Dick to get his attention. She looks amused. "Whether that cop friend of yours agrees to help or not, keeping an eye on the BPD offices might be for the best. Didn't some evidence go missing just last week?"

Of course she knows. Leave it to Oracle to keep track of everyone's well-being by monitoring the entire city they're in. "Yeah, same old for the Blüd. It was just some dealer's address book though, so how did it come across your radar?"

"Usually stolen evidence in Blüdhaven means drugs or weapons, not booklets."

"Unless they're checkbooks."

Her grin is sharp, but her words remain without bite. "Except those, yes. Anyway, it stood out. I wanted to see if might be related to our own burglaries."

Dick mulls over the idea. "Maybe. It was used in a trafficking case that got closed last month, before I left. I wasn't assigned to the case, but I do think there were a few Gothamites involved. Did you cross-check the names with our own records?"

"I did. It took a while, what with all the fake ID's, but there wasn't much out of the ordinary. Only two people haven't been identified yet, everyone else is either dead or in jail."

"Even you couldn't find anything on those remaining two?" Dick plays up his shock, clutching one hand to his chest and planting the other on the table for support. Barbara's lips twitch into half a smile, though she ultimately ignores his antics.

"Well, both entries only had a codename and phone number written down, neither of which matched anything in the database."

"Let me guess, you're still running it through the wringer anyway?"

She gently pats her laptop. "That's the beauty of technology, not being limited to doing one thing at a time."

"Let me know if you find something, alright?" Dick says with a wry smile. "Bad enough that a dead Gothamite showed up in Blüdhaven once. I'd like to know if they're going to show up on my doorstep again."

"I'll keep you posted," Barbara nods, "But do me a favor and don't run yourself ragged over this. Bruce or Alfred might put you on house arrest if you hurt your leg any more, age be damned."

Dick can't help but laugh at the idea of Bruce very firmly telling him to be back before bedtime. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that then." ~~~~

*

 

No matter how long they look, the bridge doesn't provide many clues. There are indeed several scratches to be found, but they don't line up in accordance with any suspension equipment. And where there _are_ marks, they are haphazardly spread along the support beams, in such a pattern that Dick is reminded of a more crude version of Batman's grappling hooks. Going by Bruce deeper-than-normal scowl and the tension in his jaw, he thinks the same.

It's a worrying idea. For one, it would mean that this was a solo job after all - there aren't enough marks for it to have been multiple people. Aside from that, their culprit would not only need to be skilled enough to climb up, but also strong enough to do so with the body in tow. Dick makes a mental tally in the 'possible metahuman?' column.

They scan the area for footprints, skid marks, DNA samples. Normally they would find at least one or two useful prints amongst the dirt, but whatever traces they come across are blurry and - by the looks of it - hastily wiped away.

As if someone had expected this place to be searched.

The mastermind behind this has experience, or is highly paranoid of being caught.

 _Rightfully so_ , Dick grumbles to himself. Every criminal slips up eventually, and this will be no different.

Nightwing will just have to keep a closer watch on the city for a while.

 

*

 

**[Night 1 - Littleneck Narrows Bridge, 22:36]**

 

The first night, he decides to stake out the bridge while Batgirl patrols the city. Cass seems to have joined Barbara's _'make sure Dick doesn't hurt himself again before he is healed'_ quest, but she agreed to split duties in the end - Dick is going to be sitting still most of the night anyway, unless he spots something suspicious.

His perch is on one of the buildings near the water, high enough to have a largely unobscured view along the underside of the bridge. It comes at the cost of not seeing the road above, but that shouldn't matter. If their culprit returns, it won't be in plain view of any traffic cameras.

If he returns at all.

 

*

 

**[Night 4 - Baily Church, 03:24]**

 

It has been several days since Dick started his nightly stake-outs, and so far, not much has happened. He has been switching locations, from the bridge itself to nearby hotels or apartment blocks, but their mysterious killer is as elusive as ever.

Luckily, his nights haven't been a total loss - Nightwing took care of some would-be robbers yesterday, as well as a few drug dealers. Like clockwork, where there are dark corners to hide in, small-time crooks show up. It felt good to stretch his wings again. The movements of disarming, dodging, striking a blow, again and again, all of it still came as easy as breathing. Dick is silently pleased that the weeks of immobility haven't made him as rusty as he feared.

He knows better than to underestimate the people he is up against though. The criminals he encountered yesterday were low on the food chain, untrained fighters, in general not very adept at slinking through the night. Dick could spot them from miles away and capture them just as easily. It's not them he's worried about.

The unseen enemies are always the most dangerous ones.

 

*

 

**[Night 8 - Melville Park, 01:09]**

 

Something is off.

Dick can't put his finger on what, exactly, is different about tonight, but it feels as if the city itself is holding its breath.

Which is a ridiculous thought the longer he considers it, yet any other words don't do justice to the tense atmosphere that has overtaken the streets. The usually rowdy bars are almost eerily quiet, with fewer patrons than Dick has come to expect. People glance down every alley before taking a turn, those who carry weapons clutch them tighter and pick up their pace.

Maybe they know something that Dick doesn't. It can't hurt to ask.

 

*

 

He has just finished interrogating a gang member when Batgirl calls him.

A disturbance at Avalon Hill, and another body to go with it.

 

*

 

**[Night 12 - Avalon Hill, 02:33]**

 

Another four days of autopsy reports and crime scene analyses, and Dick is ready to tear his hair out. Once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern. Their Gotham-based criminal has come over to Blüdhaven for business _again_ , and somehow escaped Dick's notice.

Batgirl's reports didn't provide much useful info either; she had arrived only to find several of the Hill's residents in an uproar, standing a few feet away from the body. For what it was worth, she had been the first to get to the crime scene, so what little clues they had managed to salvage were acquired firsthand. Police had taken care of the rest.

Suicide, the news called it. A bad investment and fickle stock market led to the victim's company going bankrupt, resulting in a one-way trip off the balcony of his 37th floor luxury apartment. There was no sign of a struggle, no unexplained wounds.

Only 10 minutes of missing security footage.

The cameras had malfunctioned in the entire building from 01:26 to 01:35. A small hiccup like that wasn't enough evidence for the cops, but those trained by Batman were less dismissive of the detail.

Their search continues. Dick extends his patrol route more through Avalon Hill and along the docks. It gives him a chance to follow up on the rumors that have been circulating over the past weeks. Because those rumors had to have started somewhere, and as far as Dick can tell, it isn't because someone tried to smuggle drugs into the port again. The timing doesn't fully match up with the discovery of body number two, but it's close enough to arouse suspicion.

The docks are as gloomy as ever in the dead of night, and the weather is intent on making it even worse - rain pours down steadily, dripping from gutters and rooftops. Dampness seeps into every nook and cranny. Dick could have taken a swim in the bay and gotten less soaked than he is right now. He perseveres.

The only bright spot of his week so far is that his leg is finally brace-free.

Now he won't have to hold back when he comes face to face with the killer.

 

*

 

**[Night 15 - B &O Rail Terminal, 05:41]**

 

Someone is watching him.

There is no concrete evidence, no proof that tells him so. Just a slight movement in the corner of his eye, and a feeling in his gut that spells trouble. Dick isn't the type to get overly paranoid, but he's not above following a hunch either.

He slips into the shadows as quietly as he can and drops down to the ledge below. It's slow going, an easy path made difficult by the need to avoid lightsources while staying completely silent. But the effort pays off.

There's a figure hidden away on the adjacent building, a few floors up, wedged in between a boarded-up window and the large advertisement sign next to it. Dick is too far away to make out any details except a slight metallic glint at the person's side - _at his arm?_ \- when he shifts from one foot to the other. If he was here to observe Dick, he is probably starting to wonder where his target went. Dick is torn between confronting his shadow outright or trying to gather more information first.

The choice is taken from him when something sharp whizzes past his head and nicks his ear.

A throwing knife, he registers distantly, small and light but thrown with enough force to dig into the mortar behind him.

He jumps onto the nearest balcony in time to avoid another knife, then slides down part of the fire escape until he can spare a second to get hold of his grapple gun. He fires it back towards the roof and-

The line is cut before it makes contact.

Dick only gets a vague impression of black and gold illuminated by the streetlights below, of round yellow goggles that reflect his own image back at him.

Then everything goes dark.

 

*

 

He wakes up disoriented and with a head-splitting throbbing at the back of his skull. It takes a few minutes to breathe through the nausea. There is gravel under his fingers and sunlight on his face. Its warmth is welcome, the brightness is not. He shifts, blinking, slowly taking stock of his surroundings. He is... On a roof?

Paper crinkles when he moves his arm.

A ripped piece of newspaper is wrapped around his wrist, tied down with the line of his grapple gun. Red letters stand stark against their black-and-white backdrop. His blood runs cold.

_H O W   D I S A P P O I N T I N G ,   G R A Y   S O N_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Told ya this was a Talon fic)


	4. Such Terrible Hungers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time! & Talon POV? Talon POV.

 

He wonders who he is.

Perhaps that should have been the first clue of his abnormal state. Weapons don't wonder, they just _are_. They exist as the tool they were created to be and nothing more. But he, he wonders.

Who he is, most of all.

He knows his past, his deeds, his old name. He remembers, in the way you remember a movie you saw as a child.

_(And when was the last time he saw a movie, a bright screen in a warm room with the smell of sugar-spice-sweetness at the tip of his tongue, at the edge of his lips, laughter and fullness and - )_

One picture after another, a random series of events strung together into a narrative. A distant story from a lifetime ago.

He lived. He died.

He is still dead, in the technical sense of the word. He does not know how, is not aware of what they did to him - the others like him - to shape him into their tool, their weapon, their _Talon_. He only knows that he exists when he should not. In the here and now, where does that leave him? Who does that make him? The Owls hollowed him out into a husk of his former self, empty but for the rage coiling behind his ribs like a viper waiting to strike.

Anger became his tether. It gave him a mission.

For all of his oddity, Talon has always been more aware of his situation than the Owls gave him credit for. He knows his life was forfeit the day the Court got a hold of it. He was far from the only one. The Owls flourished and fed the city's suffering to fuel their gain, and the Bat never even noticed.

Talon can do what no other vigilante in Gotham will, protect the innocent in ways _they_ refuse to consider.

He can rid the city of the Owls.

 

*

 

Batman flounders at the disappearances, as expected. False leads, dead ends, planted scraps of evidence that go nowhere. Talon knows how he thinks, how to circumvent his methods and predict his moves. Everything goes according to plan.

Talon should be pleased, shouldn't he?

Gotham's protector, a detective who cannot find what he is looking for. It's hilarious.

_(Or maybe Batman stopped looking, averted his gaze, out of sight out of m i n d - )_

 

*

 

The next time Talon kills an Owl, he leaves the body in clear provocation. He lures the bats closer and closer and looks on from afar, curious to see what will happen.

They don't find him.

_(Of course they don't)_

 

*

 

Talon knows this story, you see.

_Once upon a time, there was an acrobat boy who became a Robin - the first, the best, the brightest. He outgrew his colors and flew away from the nest, and in his wake, he left an empty spot to fill._

_One day, a street kid was asked to take his place._

 

*

 

It starts over.  

_Once upon a time, there was a boy the Owls wanted to become a Talon. Young and promising, gliding through the air as if gravity held no sway over him. But alas, their Gray Son of Gotham slipped out of reach, and in his wake, he left an empty spot to fill._

_One day, a broken Robin was brought before the Court to take his place._

 

*

 

Talon never spilled his secrets but oh, how the Owls would have laughed if they had known.

 

*

 

If Talon placed the first body on Blüdhaven's border as a statement, then the next is out of necessity. A member of the Court has taken leave of Gotham and fled to his residence in Avalon Hill. Talon won't give him the chance to run any further. He strikes in Blüdhaven for the second time that month and incurs the wrath of its guardian.

Gray-Son, Night-Wing, a creature in black and blue that flies among Blüdhaven's neon skies.

_(Better than him, always better, because he is second best, second choice, never good eno u g h - )_

Seeing the effect his actions have on the Gray Son afterwards is rewarding, maybe even entertaining. The frustration, the signs of weakness, _the imperfections_ \- they're oh so enjoyable to watch.

And so he watches.

Whenever Talon is not actively seeking out his makers, he takes to following Gray-Son around. Always from a distance, always hidden. Observation brings knowledge after all, and if there are other reasons he enjoys the chase, well. Those are his own. If he does not wish to acknowledge them, he does not have to.

He never lets his little distraction affect his mission - _kill them, never again, nobody else, prote c t_ \- but the action of slipping into the Gray Son's shadow becomes habit.

_(And why wouldn't it, it was why he was created, to be one and the same, to serve as a temporary substit u t e - )_

He learns.

Whom Gray-Son talks to, where he goes, and when.

How he speaks and how he fights and the way his lips curl in a sneer just as easily as a grin.

Sound and motion and color.

The sum of everything Talon couldn't live up to.

 

*

 

Night-Wing saw him.

Talon wants to laugh. He knows he didn't mess up, that he had been hidden as meticulously as ever, yet the Gray Son sensed his presence and attempted to sneak up on him.

Even if it was dumb luck instead of skill that guided Gray-Son to him, Talon can't stop the swell of excitement in his chest.

_(He found him)_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sure hope I didn't make Talon's identity too obvious from the get-go (unless you follow me on tumblr, in which case you were spoiled from the start) ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I changed the tags now to include Jason's role too! 
> 
> PS: I'm sticking with the CoO not knowing who Batman is, no matter how weird it seems. It could be an 'if we try to investigate him he'll definitely catch on to the fact someone is snooping, so we don't' scenario, idk.  
> [ Here's some extended A/N's for the fic so far, if that's your jam. ](https://redhoodsrobin.tumblr.com/post/173008599715)

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr (well, my DC sideblog): [ [redhoodsrobin] ](https://redhoodsrobin.tumblr.com)
> 
> Feedback on characterization/specific scenes you liked or disliked, etc. is always highly appreciated! ♡


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